Hidden Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 6) (7 page)

"Is that it? Not gonna try anything funny, are you?" I kept an eye on him, knowing they were sneaky.

"No, it was test. I not have killed man. Deathseeker instructed stop at human head."

"Oh, right. Um, oops." Just then a gentle breeze blew across my face and a sprinkling of bleached hair with brown roots blew in front of my eyes, strands landing on my nose. "You cut my hair!" I shouted, having to force myself not to snap every bone in his warped body. "I got it just how I like it."

"Apologies, Spark, hair mean much to Dimp, too. Mine grow good, for five hundred years now."

"Yeah, and I bet that's the last time you brushed it," I grumbled.

"Enough of this nonsense," came the regal voice of her rudeness the princess. "Black Spark, you have passed the test. You are deemed worthy and now have the honor of helping solve a terrible crime and bringing the guilty to justice."

"Oh, goodie."

I wondered if they had any mirrors, although judging by the state of them all it was very doubtful. All I could think of as I followed the princess back to the throne—giving Mithnite the daggers as often as I could—was what if I looked like a friar with a bald patch in the middle of my head.

It's all about the sacrifice in this game.

The Real Job

Back in what the princess clearly felt was my rightful position—at the bottom of the steps with her suitably elevated—she returned to her seat as if nothing had happened. It was impossible to know what to expect as nobody ever came to such places, so didn't know how they ran things.

Dwarfville, or whatever they call it, isn't quite a truly magical realm since they come and go as they please between their home and ours, but it isn't quite planet Earth either. At least, that's as far as we understand it.

They can stay with us, they just don't like to, as they feel uncomfortable under open skies and without rocks to bash and gold to count, but of all the Hidden that reside in other realities they are the ones that are as close to our world as possible. They are far beneath our feet, chiseling away, building, hoarding, fighting—they do love a fight—just one supernatural step removed from our reality.

It's confusing, which is why I make a point of not dwelling on such things—life above ground is enough to cope with without worrying about what other species do. It's their business.

"I am Princess Dekosli Beastaxe," said the haughty young ruler-to-be. I assumed she was young, but again, dwarfs.

"Nice to meet you, Princess Beastaxe," I kept a straight face and everything. What a name. Again, that's dwarves for you.

"Is this your squire?" she inquired, nodding regally at Mithnite, who was keeping very quiet.

"Squire? Um, we don't really have those now, he's more a comedy sidekick, or a servant. Yes, that's it, a servant."

"Oi, I am not a—"

"Quiet, servant, speak when you are spoken to," said the princess.

"Yes, servant, do shut up." I smiled sweetly at Mithnite, who pulled a face. Served him right for not doing as he was told. "Apologies for the rudeness of the lad, princess, he's still new. I'm breaking him in."

"Please, call me Dekosli," she said, trying to sound gracious and royal, when it just came out arrogant and pompous.

"I'd rather call you a cab."

"Why?"

"Never mind, I forgot."

"Forgot what?"

I was going to say that I forgot dwarves had little sense of humor, but instead changed the subject. "Doesn't matter. Look, what is this all about? Is this how you treat those you wish to help you?"

She looked at me, not understanding. "Yes, it is."

"Ah, right."

There was an awkward silence, eventually interrupted by the one to her left. "Princess, shall we give him the task?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Black Spark, you have been granted the task of carrying out a quest never before undertaken. No human has ever been invited into our home here beneath the gray skies of Wales for almost five thousand years. It is a great honor for you, and this quest, if you should succeed, which is highly doubtful," she added, hardly making me feel thrilled, and what was with the whole quest thing anyway? Just dwarf dramatics, I hoped.

"Where was I?" she asked, losing her train of thought.

"Quests, honor, gonna be dangerous," I added helpfully.

"Yes. Should you succeed then you will be allowed to return to the realm of man with as much of our gold as you can carry about your person. You are indeed honored."

"Oh, yes, I am. Indeed." This had better be good, it was one hell of a build up.

"You are to go forth from this place, this Chamber of Greeting, and you are to travel down the Path of No Return, traverse the Hall of Echoes, enter the Cathedral of Forgotten Ones and—"

"Should I have a pen? I should, shouldn't I? I should have a pen. I'm terrible with directions. Now, was that a left or a right at the Chamber of Almighty Spasms?" I know, but I was feeling kind of giddy. Maybe the air was different or something.

"Dare you mock me?" She leaned forward on her throne, beard brushing the ground.

"Moi? No, of course not. The very idea. But I don't know my way around, how will I know where I am?"

"We have a guide for you. Someone suitable to show you the way. Once there, you will complete your duty and then you may leave. But hear this, Black Spark, you too, strange looking servant. Should you fail, should you try to cheat us, should you go where you are not given permission to go, you will never see the sun again. Do I make myself clear?"

"As clear as the beard on your face. As clear as a teardrop of an angel. As clear as a flawless diamond cut to perfection by Malcolm Chiselwielder. As clear as—"

"Just get on with it," she said with a sigh. And shouted, "Urrad Pebbleminer."

Pebbleminer, eh? I just knew this was gonna be great. Not.

A Reluctant Guide

"Urrad Pebbleminer, I presume," I said to the dwarf shuffling across the cavernous space from out of the shadows, taking his/her time, not looking happy even by dwarf standards. I'd never seen any of the proper, always live underground, dwarves smile, but this one looked like it had never even heard of the concept.

This was not going to be a fun trip.

"Yeah, so what?" came a whiny, semi gruff, semi high-pitched retort, as if the dwarf was an adolescent and its voice hadn't quite broken and reached the deep rumble they usually have.

I kept silent, studying the ambling lump of rudeness. Its beard was rather short, just below its neck, the hair was brown—as always—but again, rather short for a dwarf. Haha. Sorry, that's insensitive. It was the same stature as all others I'd encountered, but it didn't have the proper swarthiness and density you see on them, almost like... It was, I just knew it.

Turning to the princess and her cronies, ignoring Urrad Pebbleminer—bet the poor creature got some stick for a name like that—I said, "Don't tell me you're saddling me with a child? I thought this was business of the utmost importance?"

The princess looked genuinely confused. "It is, otherwise we would never call on a human for assistance. But this is a delicate matter, and we know how young all you humans are. You are a mere hundred or so years, are you not?"

"Yes, that's old for a human."

"And Urrad here is twice your age. We thought you would feel more comfortable with a young one, like yourself."

"Actually, no. I'm an adult in my world."

"Ha!" she scoffed. "No humans are adults, or not many. Maybe a few old wizards, but most of you are still babes in arms."

This was getting me nowhere. "Okay, what's the job? Is there really a dragon?" I asked, unable to contain my excitement. Damn but these dwarves were slow to get to the point.

"Not a dragon. The dragon. There is only one."

"Is there?"

Princess pouty stared at me for the longest time then said, "Yes." Guess that told me. "You are to take its magic. We heard you can take it away, we want you to do that so we can get our gold."

"I take magic from humans, not dragons. I can't take away what is an inherent part of a true Hidden creature. If there really is a dragon then magic is what defines it. I cannot return what hasn't been stolen." This wasn't exactly true. I'd tried, and had managed to take some magic from a truly Hidden creature, but it didn't end well and the result was that I was killed. Sure, it brought me back, but I wouldn't recommend it.

"Then you have failed, so you must die."

It's one thing fighting a single dwarf, another to contend with thousands, which I was sure there were, lurking in the shadows ready to pounce. "Let's not be too hasty. I'll give it a shot. Just lead the way." Let nobody call me anything but an optimist when the alternative is death by stupidly named weapon.

"Good. Be quick, Black Spark, our kith and kin are not happy. Deal with the dragon and have your reward. Fail and—"

"Yeah, I know. Death by Woodwhittler, or Dangle Bitbiter, or something. Lead the way, Pebbledasher," I said turning to my reluctant companion.

"It's Pebbleminer," the grumpy fellow mumbled.

"Let's just go." With that, the princess and her consorts left, leaving us alone with Urrad Pebbleminer. To say it felt awkward is to say Urrad was ready for a party, with balloons and everything. We stood there, not speaking, until finally, exasperated, I said, "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Well, let's do this thing. Lead the way."

"Fine, but don't expect me to like it."

"Heaven forbid." What was with this dwarf?

Treachery Afoot

Nothing sat right with me about this. I was supposed to be taking it all on trust, which meant I trusted none of it, or them. How did I know the princess was who she said she was? How did I know there really was a dragon? How did I know this wasn't a trap, or something else entirely? I didn't, and I don't like being kept in the dark—which was kind of awkward as we were deep in dwarf territory and they aren't big on light bulbs.

Everything felt wrong and I cursed Dancer, and myself, for getting involved in this. Why couldn't my first job back be something simple like hunting down and dealing with a rogue wizard or an evil sorceress? I knew where I stood with humans and their ability to deceive, but had no clue about how dwarves ticked and what their ways were. I'd got involved in something I didn't understand and it made me antsy.

The only thing I was sure of was that I was being used. But why, and how to get out of it, I had no idea.

As we followed our gruff young guide I whispered to Mithnite, "I can't believe you disobeyed me as soon as you had the chance."

"Aw, come on, you would have done the same."

"I would not, I..." I thought for a moment. "Okay, you're right, but that doesn't mean you should have done it. This is dangerous, very dangerous. Like, you might get killed in a nasty way, that kind of dangerous."

"That tunnel was wicked, though, wasn't it? I felt like I was flying. Were you scared? I was, a little, but then it was just fun."

"Damn, what is wrong with you? Aren't you worried about any of this?"

Mithnite shrugged. "I'm sure you'll handle it, you always do."

"Did you hear about Japan?"

His mood changed. "I heard."

"Then you know that I can't always handle things, that sometimes it all goes horribly wrong. I can't focus if I have to worry about you all the time."

"Don't stress about me. I'll be a great help, you'll see."

Oh boy, what had I let myself in for? Maybe I shouldn't have let him tag along at all, just taken him home and left him there. Although, he had cheered up somewhat, so that was something, I suppose.

Urrad remained silent and sullen, leading the way but dawdling even for a dwarf. I wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but any attempt at communication was met with a sullen stare and flick of the head. Definitely a teenager in attitude, if not in years. He made Mithnite seem like an old man.

On and on we walked, through endless cavernous spaces, past tunnels large and small, never once meeting another dwarf. It all felt wrong. My understanding was that there were countless dwarves, tens of millions of them beneath our country alone—forgetting about the realm thing—so they should have been everywhere. But it was silent, not even the sound of a distant hammer, or the echo of someone shouting, "Run, it's gonna blow." Nothing, just my winklepickers tapping against bare rock, Mithnite's pretty much endless chatter, and Urrad's shuffling.

It must have been hours later, through a dizzying array of turns and switchbacks, getting deeper and deeper underground as we progressed, that we finally stopped and Urrad grunted to a delicately carved recess in a wall where a seating area offered respite.

"Time to eat," he said.

"I forgot to bring a packed lunch, can we share?"

"They gave me food for you," Urrad said with scorn, like I was unable to make a sandwich. "But not for him." He pointed at Mithnite like he was a stray dog.

"He can split mine."

Urrad unhitched his huge backpack and dropped it with a thud to the ground. We stood, mesmerized, as he undid the buckles then began to unload what I'd assumed was to be a snack, but was probably about a week's worth of food to a human being.

Out it came. Sausages, cheese, bread that looked as appetizing as a rock—I'd heard all about dwarf bread. Trust me, don't go near it, you'll break your teeth—a whole chicken, a few other birds I had no idea what they were, strips of meat fresh and cured, fish, and on and on it went.

Once Urrad had finished unpacking he said, "Eat," and then got busy stuffing his face. We ate in silence, the only sounds the grunts of food being consumed, me finishing and feeling full after ten minutes, Mithnite valiantly forging ahead for thirty minutes, even trying, and failing to chew, the dwarf bread, Urrad going for at least an hour, no end to it in sight.

"How about we get to know each other a little"? I suggested, just so I didn't have to listen to him eat. There's nothing more annoying than the sound of somebody masticating when you aren't doing likewise. It's the absolute grossest thing ever.